The little King has fallen
by Ah-mandine
Summary: -MxM- Matt focuses on Mello. Mello, Mello, Mello.


**Disclaimer :** I do not own Death Note.

**Pairing :** MattMello

**Music :** Ave Maria, by Gounod and Bach.

**Note :** I've always wanted to write this, but I hadn't gathered the courage to do it before, and I wanted it to be perfect. I just so love Matt, seriously, doesn't it _hurt_ so bad? This moment made me gape and then cry all I had and then swear it hadn't happened, and to me, he would always be alive. S-Sappy, I know. I just feel so sad for Mello, too, at this very moment, and you just want him to know about it and rush there, don't you? So, here it is, Mattie's last little moment.

* * *

The bullet hit him, the very first one, and he didn't know if he was as scared as astonished. When the second one came, he knew he was frightened. Deadly frightened. And by the time the third went through his skin, he was dying and he could not stop it. He could not do anything.

He knew how it worked. He knew it so well. Blood was pouring out of his open wounds, and he should have covered them, should have bandaged them, and put pressure on them. Maybe if they all left now, maybe if they all decided he was dead and left him there, Mello would hurry, he would come out of nowhere and do it, he would put the bandages all around him and save him. Mello, his little princess... He knew he would cry, so definitely. He would smack him, he would be tough and strong like usual, but he would also know it was too late, there were just so many wounds... He would know he was going to die, and he would cry. Not just quietly, he would scream, would beg, he would make his voice hoarse and his throat dry with sadness and he would hold him, he would get soaked in his blood and he would kiss him through his tears, desperately, all over.

Matt didn't want Mello to suffer, but he didn't want to die like this. He wanted Mello to be there and to care, he wanted Mello to hold him and kiss him goodbye, and tell him it was okay and he was there, tell him nothing wrong would happen and it would just go smoothly, he wanted Mello to say a prayer and to worry about him. He wanted to feel Mello's tears on his skin for just one more time.

His throat tightened though as he realized he wouldn't. He would never see Mello again. He tried to remember the last time they had talked, but it was blurry. Was his brain already oxygen-deprived? Was it already dying, asphyxiated, or was it just this bad memory of his? He didn't know, he didn't remember. He was smart, though, he had been third at Whammy's, so could he really have had a bad memory?

Now the worry turned into sharp fear as he realized it was coming. Yes, he was losing it, he was losing it all. Not only his mental faculties, fuck, he didn't give a damn about those. He would never see his princess again, he would never call him a baby again, and get smacked on the head. This scared him and hurt him, way too much. He tried to whisper the silly nickname for the last time, but it wouldn't get out, his lips felt too numb and heavy to move and it just wouldn't get out. Now despair hit him. It meant he would never call Mello's name again. It would not be his last word. Not a word of love, not his name, not Mello. He would disappear and it would all stop.

When they had imagined the future, together, they had known it was meaningless, they had known they had almost non-existent chances to live up to them... Yet they had really hoped. They had never lied when they had said, 'one day, we will stop chasing after Kira, he will be dead and we'll live in a big house, or maybe in another cranky apartment, but together, playing games and just kissing all day, never worrying about a thing again.' They had meant it, they had wanted to do it, they had wanted to do those things. Matt hadn't thought he would die on that day. He had thought it would last, he had known his death had to be in Mello's arms, heroic, or not at all, but in his arms and wiping his little princess' tears off.

Matt realized that he was crying though, he was still falling and he was crying, his cheeks were numb but he could still feel it, or guess it, or maybe it was the lump in his throat. Maybe he wasn't crying but just assuming he was, but he didn't want to think about this. He didn't want to think about dying, about not knowing anything anymore, about forgetting about Mello.

He wanted to imagine him, leaning over him and kissing his blood-soaked forehead one last time, but he was startled to find out he couldn't. He just didn't have the strength to imagine anything anymore. The images wouldn't come, only the harsh wind and those cars around him. They were blurry, and he couldn't even see the drivers, he couldn't hear a thing now.

He was leaving, he could feel it and he was doing his best not to, he was doing his best to hold on. That was how they had always worked, right? He and Mello, they had always had this insane determination, this will to survive. It didn't work, though, it as all leaving him, he knew it, he felt it. It was all going numb and he couldn't focus anymore.

He tried to think about Mello's name, strong Mello, pretty Mello, who would learn about his death on a tiny screen, in their apartment. Who would come back home, happy and victorious and tell him he had done it, tell it to the empty rooms. He would realize Matt wasn't there, and turn on the television just for some noise on the background, and he would look for him, he would try to dial his number. He would get no answer, and he would hear about it, or see it on their old television that didn't work so well.

Matt wanted to sob but he couldn't, he didn't have control over his body anymore, he couldn't even blink. He hated it. He was dying and he hated it. He wanted Mello. He loved him. He deserved him. They hadn't done anything wrong, ever. He wanted him here. He wanted his kisses. They had never deserved this. They had just always run, because they had always had to. They just loved each other and tried their best to go through it all, but they weren't so good at it. Did they deserve death for this? They didn't. He knew it, but he couldn't shout it now.

Ah, it was coming though. He wanted his last thought to be about Mello, so he focused on him, he tried his best to remember his smile but it was so hard it made him despair even more. Mello. Mello, Mello, Mello.

Now wasn't it coming?

Ah, there it was.

Mello.

Mello.


End file.
